


In the Mood

by SDJ2



Series: Central Park [2]
Category: Simon & Garfunkel, Simon and Garfunkel - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-19 19:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDJ2/pseuds/SDJ2
Summary: Sequel to Thinking Straight. What happens in the hotel room after the Concert in Central Park?





	In the Mood

They sat in silence in the car, each at one end of the backseat, while the chauffeur drove them to one of the hotels in the city where they’d be staying overnight. Not one word had been said since they had gotten in the car, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paul thought that, ironically, their driver would probably think that the two of them were angry at each other, and on no-speaking terms. Which wouldn’t even be that surprising, considering their history of arguing over all kinds of stuff in recent years. Paul nearly rolled his eyes at how stupid it all seemed now, at how much time they had thrown away. He really missed Art, he did, when they had split up in the early seventies. But then whenever they did get together for a quick reunion to do a couple of songs, Art could be so stubborn-headed (and, in all fairness, so could he), that it had nearly always ended in a shouting match and worse, years of staying away from each other. He glanced to his left, where Artie was sitting staring out the car window, a nearly invisible though small smile tugging at his lips. Paul could pretty much imagine what Art was thinking about. He had to refrain himself from displaying a huge grin on his face himself.

Just under a half an hour ago, they had finished singing Sounds of Silence under the thunderous applause of the 500.000 people crowd. Once again they had made their way to the backstage door, and Paul had been so aware of Art’s eyes resting on his back, he had nearly tripped over one of guitar cables lying around on the floor. He felt he hadn’t even gone half through the door, or Art had been right behind him, invading his personal space instantly. Not that he minded. This time it had been him who was pinned to the wall, Art holding him in place there, one hand flatly against the wall next to his ear, the other twisted roughly in his t-shirt. They had so little time, and their kisses had been frantic, exploring, tongues entwined, with quiet moans escaping their lips. Paul had had to pull away to tell Artie to stop, because the thought of having to go on stage with another hard-on he couldn’t do something about was killing him. The next few moments had all happened in a blur : getting back onstage, doing a reprise of Late In The Evening, and then there was no time left to do or say anything else as they were being led away for a very quick interview before they were escorted to the car. 

Paul was shaken out of his reverie by the subtle and subdued squeaking of the car’s brakes. They had arrived. The hotel was situated in a rather busy part of town, so he and Art hurried inside in the hope of not being recognized. Unsurprisingly, the hotel staff had arranged for two separate rooms, but it was obvious that if this was going to go somewhere tonight, one bed would be left untouched. In the elevator, while the bellboy brought them up to their floor, still no word was spoken, but once they arrived, all it took was one glance and a quick nod from Art to be sure he wouldn’t be alone tonight. The young hotel employee opened the door to his room, escorted Paul in and then left to take care of Artie. Standing in his room, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings, Paul released a breath he forgot he was holding. This is it, he thought. This is the stuff he had always fantasized about, finally happening, and he was more nervous about it than he cared to admit. He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the muted knock on his door. He realized his hands were shaking when he turned the door knob and his nerves didn’t seem to settle down when he opened the door to find Artie leaning in the door post, softly chewing his bottom lip. Instead, his uneasiness made room for some sort of shyness, which was rather unexpected, seeing as they had nearly ripped each other’s clothes off earlier.

“Hi”. Art speaks first. “Hey”, Paul answers. Then it becomes silent again. It’s just like they are two 14-year olds on a first date, both of them shy and not knowing what to say to break the ice. Paul chuckles. This is just getting to be really silly, he thinks. He steps aside to let Art in the room. More silence. Art’s gaze immediately turns to the bed as soon as he crosses the threshold, and Paul realizes in that exact same moment that shit, he has never even…done this with a guy. Now he feels even more nervous. Art, though clearly a little uncomfortable himself, picks up on his quickly-changing mood when he turns around to face Paul again. Art pauses only for a second, and then reaches for Paul’s hand, and leads him through the room to sit on the bed. Paul thinks it’s really soft. He’s surprised he still notices little details like that, because his nerves are screaming at him and they make all of the hair on the back his neck stand up. Out of the blue comes the thought that he isn’t sure anymore if he can actually do this. He’s nearly on the verge of panicking. This would change everything. Everything. He turns to Art for help, but Art simply keeps staring at him with soft eyes. Paul vaguely registers somewhere in his brains that Art’s hand comes up to his face, and Art whispers “Paul…god, I want to…” and before Paul can react or figures out what is happening, Art is kissing him. Again. Paul’s eyes slip shut but inside his heart is racing. 

This never gets old, he thinks however. Paul supposes he could just do this for the rest of his life and be perfectly happy. Art’s tongue sneaks past his lips and demands entrance to his mouth. He willingly complies. What began as slow and easy quickly turns into a series of desperate kisses….on his cheek, his mouth, his neck, back to his mouth. Art is applying soft but insistent pressure with his lips and his hand still warm on Paul’s cheek, and ends up nearly biting Paul’s lower lip with his teeth. It’s torturous and so hot. All of a sudden they are pressed up against each other, really close, Art’s hands everywhere, sliding all over him, and Paul thinks he’s going to die if he doesn’t…if Art doesn’t do something soon. 

Art must have guessed his thoughts, because he moves even closer and pushes Paul gently down on the bed without breaking the kiss. Paul is trapped, Art hovering above him, and when they do come up for air, Paul’s brains register vaguely that the only thing he can catch a glimpse of while lying there is Art’s head full of curly hair that he just needs to touch right the fuck now. He runs his fingers through Art’s hair, lacing his fingers onto some curls, and pulls Art’s head back a little, exposing Art’s neck on which he soothingly plants some sucking kisses. Art throws his head even further back to give Paul better access and moans, honest to god moans, and Paul can feel the vibrations of Art’s vocal chords on his lips, and he thinks it feels and sounds so sexy he can’t quite grasp why on earth they didn’t do this sooner. 

Then he’s aware of how hard Art is against him, he can just feel it through the layers of their clothes and really, why are they still wearing clothes in the first place? Paul shifts his hips a little, knowing it will create some of the friction they’re desperately seeking, and he gets the desired effect : Art first moans again, then kisses Paul quickly and slots his groin in place on top of Paul’s, one of his thighs in between Paul’s. Paul’s erection is actually hurting him by now, the sensitive skin of his dick confined in between the zipper of his trousers and Art’s weight on top of him. But then Art’s hand reaches in between their bodies and fumbles with the zipper of Paul’s pants and this is it…there’s no turning back now, this is actually going to happen. Overcome with a sudden boldness Paul reaches for Art’s shirt and gets to unbuttoning it. Art helps him by shaking his shoulders out of the shirt once all of the buttons are loose. The piece of clothing falls on the ground. Art’s eyes lock with his and they both smile reassuringly at each other. Paul slides his hand through Artie’s chest hair, feels how soft and curly it is. Art is concentrating again on his pants, he gets the zipper down and finally, finally cups Paul through his underwear…and the jolt of heat coursing through Paul’s stomach after that, it’s too much all at once. He knows he’s not going to last long, he already feels like he’s going to explode any second now if Art keeps this up. “Artie…”, it’s just a muffled mumble against Art’s mouth, “I’ve…this…I never…you know”. He gestures with his hand to nothing in particular, not even sure what he’s trying to say. But Art gets it, gets him, as always. Art stops stroking him for a second and gazes at him (and when did Art’s eyelashes grow so long?). “I know”, Art says. “Me neither. But it’ll be okay.” Paul believes him, it is going to be okay, because this is them, and nothing should feel more right in the world than Simon & Garfunkel together as they should be. He lies still and lets Art further undress him.

Afterwards, Paul wakes up when the first rays of sunshine sneak through the curtains. Art is still asleep next to him, his arm slung casually around Paul’s shoulders, and Paul’s face is in between Art’s neck and his chin, and if he breathes in deeply through his nose he can still smell the faint scent of Art’s cologne. Paul understands that what happened the night before was of epic proportions, but he also knows that they are going to have to talk about this, to sort this all out, to find out what this means for them. But not yet. Right now, he just wants to keep enjoying Art’s warmth, the soft rising and falling of his chest, and Art’s faint but unmistakable snoring that Paul’s going to tease him about later.


End file.
